Not Perfect
by Imagen99
Summary: Hermione's thoughts and feelings after she recieves her 'E' in her Owls.


_I Own Nothing. Sometimes I feel a little like this. Granted, I exaggerated with Hermione._

The problem with perfection is that it is taken for granted. Soon after you keep achieving it, everyone comes to expect that from you, and you come to expect it from yourself. The problem is, when you're not perfect, and that only makes it hurt more when you **know** you could've done better and it's plain to see you didn't. You failed. And soon everyone else will know you've failed. They'll be disappointed with you because you did, and that doubles the guilt and hurt even more.

All of these thoughts were flitting through Hermione Granger's mind as she regarded the piece of paper that clearly showed her Owl examination results. She knew she was being silly, that one 'E' was hardly anything to be ashamed of, but it hurt nonetheless.

Glancing around as se bit her lip, trying to stop the silly tears from flowing, Hermione carefully turned her paper so that Ron or Harry couldn't see it. She didn't want anyone to see it. She didn't want them to be disappointed.

She vaguely heard something about Harry's grades, until the word 'O' with defence against the dark arts was mentioned. Then her heart stopped and she backtracked.

Hermione didn't consider herself better than anybody; that selfish thought had never even crossed her mind. But she had always, always achieved better than Harry. Except for once, but she was overworked and tired. It didn't count. So she liked to think that she should've at least drawn with him in defence. She'd been through almost everything with him. She had even been to the ministry with him, but she hadn't been quite so lucky. She definitely knew more spells than him, achieved higher in any of the other tests. But he'd beaten her.

And it stung, like ice to know he'd done better. **Why** had he done better? What had she done wrong? The anger and envy sizzled inside her at those thoughts, yearning to be unleashed, but with nowhere to go.

The worst part was she couldn't hate him. She simply couldn't. He'd done nothing wrong. He was her best friend. He deserved it. But it still hurt that he did better. She folded her paper, not wanting anyone to know about her marks.

But Ron had caught sight of it anyway, ripping the paper rudely out of her hands and scanning it. "11 O's and one E! Hermione that's bloody brilliant!" She studied him closely, but she couldn't be sure he meant it. There was probably nothing that could convince her. She frowned at the dismal thought, and Ron noticed. "…Wait, you're not disappointed are you?" His tone became darker, like he didn't think she had a right to be, and she almost quailed.

She didn't want him to think she was stupid, and nothing he'd say could change her mind. She'd done a lot of thinking about it, and her reaction to this was what she had expected. She had carefully considered how she'd feel, and planned how to help herself. Ever since she let Umbridge get the better of her, and cause her to lose her focusing her exam, Hermione had expected the 'E'. She had seen it coming. So she'd prepared herself. She wasn't ready.

Hurrying as quickly as possible up to the room she shared with Ginny, Hermione locked the door and sat down. Her eyes slid to the piece of paper again, willing it's results to change. They didn't. She stared harder. The words seemed to blur before her into blocks of colours. The black mark annoyed her, disrupted the even sea of 'O's blue. Suddenly her anger manifested again, and she had to do something to let it out. Grabbing a nearby board, Hermione raked her fingernails down it, trying to cause as much damage as possible. She didn't stop until she felt better, and by that time her hands were raw.

She knew, on some distant unemotional level, that she was behaving stupidly, and that really it didn't matter that much. An 'E' was after all a very respectable mark. But it wasn't an 'O'. It wasn't perfect. And that meant she wasn't academically. It was a hard truth.

For as long as she could remember, things always came easier to Hermione. No concept was out of her reach, no problem unsolvable. That was why she loved learning. Sure, it ostracised her from her pers, but it was worth it. The praise, the feeling of accomplishment was intoxicating. Later she'd found out that friends were more important, but that didn't stop her addiction. Her parents had worried about her, bless them.

Her parents.

What was she going to tell her parents? They knew all about the grades, she herself had blathered on about them to them! What would they think? She didn't want to tell them the most; she feared their reactions the most, because they'd known her the longest. They expected the most out of her. Sure, they loved her, but it didn't stop their little jokes about her non-existent sports abilities. She laughed, but it hurt and she knew she couldn't take them laughing at her 'E'. No matter how much they didn't mean it. It still hurt, and it made her feel infinitely worse. At least they wouldn't leave her over it.

Unbidden, a reminder of her boggart in third year swept through her mind.

_**A thirteen year old Hermione walked slowly into the box, she held her wand out in front of her, ready to strike. But when she saw the boggart, she was curious; she wanted to know what her biggest fear was. So she hesitated, and watched it take form.**_

"_**You are a failure Hermione Granger. I cannot believe you would disappoint me like this, it trusted you!" An eerily tall McGonagall said. She towered over Hermione, her look of fury leaving Hermione speechless. She was joined by three others emerging slowly from the darkness.**_

"_**For Merlin's sake Hermione, what use are you now? You can't even pass the easiest class in the school! Go back to your muggle home. I don't want to see you again." Harry taunted.**_

"_**You'll never belong here. You're just a filthy mudblood." Ron spat at her, not even looking in her direction. Finally the last person spoke, voice filled to the brim with malevolence. **_

"_**I don't know why you try. You're never going to be good enough for my Ronnie. Get out." And she ran.**_

Of course, she had only ever told Ron and Harry about McGonagall. They could laugh at that, but she didn't want them to know the rest. A small part of her thought they'd agree with their boggart selves and leave her, so she never broached the subject. It was a part of her that she'd never dared to explore before.

Now their words came back to her with horrible clarity. She had failed, and it was worse knowing she could've done it. She **knew** she could have.

…

Maybe she didn't work hard enough? Maybe all of her adventures took time off of her studying? Maybe Umbridge's distractions were too much? Maybe it was Umbridge's teaching?

Maybe it was just that she couldn't do it.

Hermione Granger was used to doing everything perfectly. Everything in exams anyway. And when she realised that she wasn't perfect, that she wouldn't **always** achieve 130%, it hurt that much more because she **knew** she could've. And she didn't.

She spent the rest of the day in that room, alone and thinking. When she came out again, the pain had dimmed little.


End file.
